#finalyyyyy

“Morning,” he grunts. He doesn’t wrap his arms around Sid’s midsection like he wants to, doesn’t kiss his cheek and rest his chin on the top of his growing mop of curls. Instead, he leans back against the island across from him, head bowed, and eyes closed, trying to get a few more minutes of rest before he really has to be awake.

“You’ve been doing this for how many years now and you’re still not a morning person?”

Evgeni lifts his head, his breath catching at how…fond the smile Sid’s giving him is. “Yeah, well-“ he clears his throat, feeling the blood rush to his face. “Old dog, bad tricks?”

Sidney tips his head back and laughs, his beautiful, honking laugh that makes him sound like a goose, and Evgeni can’t help but stare at him: the little wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, the way his mouth stretches over his teeth, how the tilt of his head seems to elongate his neck and make Evgeni want to lick and bite every square inch.

“I’d try to correct you with the right wording, but I have a feeling you said it wrong on purpose.” Sid’s grin is blinding, too bright for how early it is.

Evgeni tilts his head a little. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He grins, more of a bearing of teeth than a display of joy. “Bad English.”

Sid lets out the goose laugh again. Evgeni likes how pink his face gets and makes a silent bet with himself to see how many times he can pull that laugh out of him during his visit.

X

Evgeni will never be over how exhilarating it is to be on the ice with Sid. He’s always felt at home in a rink, with skates on his feet and a stick in his hands, but with Sid- well. He feels like they were destined to share sixty-one meters of ice.

“What’d you have to do to finally get him here, huh?” Kadarov mutters, smirking a little. “Sign away your life to the NHL?”

“He’s just getting over a tough breakup. Besides,” Evgeni says distractedly, watching Sid familiarize himself with the rink, bigger than he’s used to. “I already promised him ‘Penguins forever’.”

Evgeni freezes, and from the corner of his eyes he can see Kadarov shaking violently. “Mikhail,” he starts, but Kadarov cuts him off, waving his left hand erratically. “It’s fine,” he says, voice high-pitched. A giggle lets itself loose and Kadarov doubles over to brace himself with the wall.

“What are you laughing for?” Evgeni hisses, cold with fear. “This isn’t a laughing matter, what the fuck?” He sees Sid skating over, looking concerned, and tries to swallow his panic.

“Everything okay over here?” Sid looks between Evgeni and Kadarov, confused and lips twitching, like he thinks he should be laughing too.

“Told Kadar joke,” Evgeni lies. “Is terrible joke, think his brain is broken.”

Sid nods slowly, the space between his eyebrows wrinkling slightly. “Okay. Uh,” his gaze slides over to Kadarov, who is no longer under threat of death by laughter, but is still chuckling to himself and shaking his head. Sid blinks and looks back to Evgeni, confused, and a little lost.

“How do you like ice?” Evgeni tilts his chin up toward the rink. “Feels okay?”

Sid looks over his shoulder, the left corner of his mouth ticking up. “Yeah,” he says. “It’ll definitely be a bit of an adjustment, but nothing I can’t handle, ya know?”

“Of course,” Evgeni sticks the tip of his tongue between his teeth, biting down gently, privately drooling over the color that flushes high on Sid’s cheekbones. “Sidney Crosby can handle anything.”

X

He’s still thinking about that blush when Anya accosts him late that night, cornering him in front of the large double sink in the bathroom. Her eyes are wide, her brows furrowed, her bottom lip red like she’s been biting it viciously. “Zhenya,” she says, the hem of her shirt gathered between her clenched fists. “I need to tell you something.”

Evgeni turns off the faucet and rubs his hands dry on his jeans. “Is it something I need to be worried about?”

Anya scrunches her face up, the space between her eyebrows closing. “I don’t think- I don’t know.” She sighs, folding her arms over her chest. “Maybe.” Anya purses her lips and pivots on her heel to march through to the bedroom, where she begins pacing at the foot of their bed. She stops suddenly, facing Evgeni. She gives a trembling exhale and just- falls backward onto the bed, arms spread out perpendicular. Evgeni almost wants to laugh, but he knows if he did Anya wouldn’t talk about what’s bothering her, so he keeps his mouth shut and sits down next to her legs.

Anya presses the heels of her palms against her eyes, groaning. “I don’t know how to tell you,” she admits. “It’s nothing bad, I swear, and it’s so stupid, Zhenya, god!”

“Hey,” Evgeni interjects. “Careful now, that’s my wife you’re talking about.”

Anya lifts her hands to make a show of rolling her eyes. Evgeni raises an eyebrow and she sighs. “Fine,” she relents. “So it’s not stupid. But it’s-“ she makes a face. “Immature, I guess?” the corner of her mouth ticks up, and she looks a little to the left of Evgeni’s head. “It feels like I’m a schoolgirl again, getting a silly crush.” The nostalgic, far-off look in her eyes disappears as she makes eye contact with Evgeni. “Or it would,” she continues regretfully. “If it didn’t also feel like I was betraying your trust.”

Evgeni tries not to get stuck on the first thought that pops into his head, but he can feel panic start to cling to the edges of his consciousness as he mentally goes through recent interactions Anya’s had with any male coworkers or friends. He starts second-guessing everything in the span of a half-second, and if his mom hadn’t brought out his baby pictures after Nikita was born, he would be doubting that too, but-

“I think I’m falling in love with Sidney.”

A split second of nothing.

A train braking too hard, too soon; the wheels sparking against the rails.

He opens his mouth to speak, to ask when, and how, but what comes out is-

“That’s so fucking hot.”

“Zhenya!” Anya snaps, springing into a sitting position, face flushed. “What the fuck, Zhenya, that is not-“

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he yelps. “That’s not what I wanted to say, I’m sorry, that was incredibly inappropriate, I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I won’t- I swear to God, Anya-“

“I mean,” She makes a face, half apologetic. “You’re not wrong.”

He’s dying. He’s dead, and he’s in heaven, because he’s under the same roof as the two loves of his life and the one he’s married to is both okay with him being with the other one and that she wants to be with him too. (The number of times he has dreamed of this scenario is ridiculous and embarrassing.)

Anya must be able to tell what train of thought his mind is going down because she blinks, eyes wide, then folds her legs under her and smirks. “You like that,” she hums. “Me, with Sidney.” She caresses the edge of his jaw with her knuckles. There’s a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes so Evgeni leans into it, closing his eyes and exhaling over her wrist. Anya kisses his cheek, dragging them up to his temple. “How many times have you imagined it? Be honest.”

“So many,” he breathes. He tries to tilt his head back to kiss her properly, but she halts him with her thumb over his lips and the rest of her hand cupping his chin.

“Were you watching?” She asks lightly. “Or were you with us, participating, touching us both?”

“Both,” he rasps, and she slides her thumb into his mouth, pressing against his tongue, keeping his mouth open.

Anya hums again and nips at the crest of his ear. “What does he do to me,” she asks, almost begging, but not quite. She straddles him, groaning as she rubs against the hard line of his dick, still trapped in his pants, her thumb slipping farther into his mouth as he gasps in return. “What does he do to you?” She slides her thumb out, dragging it down the center of his chin. Evgeni makes sure to look her in the eyes as he says, “Everything”.

It’s a race to see who can get their clothes off first, and Anya has the advantage of apparently not wearing underwear, so Evgeni is stuck at the end of the bed with his shirt off and pants around his knees while his wife is stretching out on top of the covers, the pillows like a halo around her dark hair.

His wife is hot and he’s a simple man; sue him.

“Zhenya,” her voice lilts, as she bends her knees, planting her feet flat on the duvet, and running her long fingers up her delicious thighs. He shoves his pants the rest of the way off and nearly breaks his nose on her kneecap in trying to get up to her fast enough. He’s about to kiss her when she stops him again, pushing him away with the tips of her fingers against his forehead. He’s man enough to admit that he whimpers.

“If you’re good,” she says, carding her beautiful fingers through his hair, pressing down at the back of his skull, guiding him to her chest. “Are you going to be good for me?”

“So good,” Evgeni breathes, and licks broadly over her left nipple.

Anya tugs on his hair lightly, not enough to hurt- not yet. “Tell me one of your fantasies,” she breathes. “I don’t care which one, just-“ her breath hitches Evgeni bites at the skin just below the nipple. Her eyelids flutter, as if she wants to keep watching him. “Make me come,” she orders.

Evgeni licks at her left nipple once more before kissing down the side and across to her right one, alternating between soft, barely-there brushes and open, wet things that barely quantify as a kiss.

He resists the urge to suck a hickey into the bottom of her breastbone.

He gives her right nipple the same treatment as the left: broad licks directly over, sharp bites underneath, all while his hands trace the skin around her ribcage.

“One of my favorites,” he murmurs, kissing a line down her torso, “starts just like this. I’m making you feel so good-“

“Could be- better,” Anya gasps, her stomach jumping under his hands and lips.

“And Sid knocks on the door. I tell him we’re busy, but he just knocks again, you know stubborn he gets.”

“Uh-hhh,” Anya whines, as Evgeni slips two fingers into the tight, wet heat of her cunt.

“So I tell him,” Evgeni mutters, licking slow, broad stripes between the lips of her labia. “I tell him that he either has to leave us alone or join us.” He spreads his fingers and starts to push them in and out, slow, but not gentle. “And he comes in, of course.”

“Sidnechka!” Anya cries out. Evgeni covers up his smirk by replacing his fingers with his tongue, moaning when his wife’s thighs close around his head like a vice (or a boa constrictor, catching its prey), her hand almost tight enough in his hair to pull it out.

“Is that what you call him,” he gasps when she lets him free, replacing his fingers and driving them in fast but shallow. “In your head, is that what you think of him? As your Sidnechka?”

Anya whines, her shoulders hunched forward, the shorter strands of her hair sticking to her face with sweat, her eyes wild.

“Do you want to hold him? Kiss him?” Evgeni partners a particularly sharp thrust with a slight pressure of his thumb to the side of her clitoris. “Do you want to put him on his knees?”

“Yes,” she sobs, her back bowing, right hand digging into his scalp and her left clenched in the sheets.

“You want him to make you feel good, make you come?”

“Yes!” Anya cries, so loud it’s almost a scream.

Evgeni lets her tug his head up, almost bringing his fingers out too until she clamps her thighs shut around his wrist. “Was I good for you, my love?” he murmurs.

“Just kiss me, you fucking idiot,” Anna pants, and- well. It’s certainly no hardship to obey his wife’s demand.

She keeps her hand in his hair, scratching her nails against his scalp soothingly, tugging sharply when she decides he’s having too much fun teasing her. “Make me come again,” she says. “And then fuck me.”

“With my fingers again? Or my mouth?”

She bites his lip, hard enough that it’s still stinging when she pushes him back down her body. “Both.”

He normally tries to spend as much time as possible eating her out, but he senses that she’s a little too impatient for that tonight, so he only spends a little time warming her pussy back up with his mouth before he starts back up a grueling pace with his fingers.

“So,” he says, biting a soft impression of his front teeth into the inside of her thigh. “I told you one of my fantasies.”

Anya hums, her eyes closed, her lips turned up.

“So it’s only fair if you tell me one of yours, right?”

“Is that- so,” Anya asks, her voice hitching in the middle.

“Oh yes,” Evgeni murmurs, curling the tips of his fingers.

“God,” Anya gasps. “I want his mouth on my tits.” She twists one of her nipples, as if to make a point.

“Yeah,” he hums, tonguing the side of her clit. “You want his mouth on your tits while I’m eating your cunt?”

“Oh, shit,” Anya whimpers, her fingers clenching deliciously tight in his hair. “Fuck, I want him eating my cunt.”

“Am I sucking your tits, then, in this hypothetical?”

“No,” Anya says, digging her nails into his scalp. “I’m sucking your dick.”

The vibrations from his moan push her over into her second orgasm, easier than the first. He kisses the crease between her thigh and groin as she comes down, one of his thumbs still moving up and down between her slick labia. He kisses his way up her body, ripping open a condom packet as he settles his forehead between the valley of her breasts.

“Would you want him to fuck you,” he murmurs, pushing himself up, putting his weight on his left forearm, sliding the condom on with his right hand.

Anya makes sure they’re holding eye contact when she says, “I want him to come in me and for you to eat me out after.”

Evgeni grips the base of his dick so tight it hurts to keep himself from coming. “Good God, woman,” he chokes.

“I have never gone easy on you,” Anya chuckles. “Why should this be any dif-“ she cuts herself off, gasping when Evgeni thrusts in. “Different,” she breathes, eyes slipping shut. She slips her hand from the top of his head to the nape of his neck, squeezing slightly, her thumb an insistent pressure at the hinge of his jaw. “I want to put him on his knees,” she murmurs, her knees squeezing his hips between them, telling him that he’s allowed to move. “I want to hold him while you fuck his face, when you fuck his ass. I want to show him how to fuck you best, to sit on his goddamn face and keep him there until he’s covered in my come.”

She keeps up a near-constant litany of words while he fucks into her, pausing only to breathe or order him around some more. It’s exhilarating, Evgeni thinks, one hand tight around the curve of Anya’s hip. Finally being able to talk about Sidney- what he wants to do to Sidney- and for her to snap back with her own fantasies? It’s a wonder he hasn’t come yet.

“I can’t wait to get my hands on his ass,” Anya groans, clenching her pussy down on his cock. Evgeni moves one of her legs from around his waist to up over his shoulder. “Fuck, Zhenya, as soon as you get your shit together, I want my hands on his ass.” Evgeni growls in response, snapping his hips faster. “Promise me, Zhenya,” Anya gasps insistently. “Promise you’ll let me, as much as I want.”

“I- promise,” Evgeni gasps, trembling, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose, as his muscles lock up. He’s careful to pull out slowly, and lets the bed catch him as he drops to Anya’s right.

“Fucking Christ,” he pants, chest heaving, blinking white spots from his vision. Anya only hums in response, her eyes closed and a smug grin on her face.

X

After they’ve cleaned up, put on some semblance of pajamas, and have tucked themselves into bed, Anya turns to him. “I know Sidney’s here for you,” she starts, her voice soft. “But I can’t help but feel like- like it’s meant to be all of us, you know?”

“He’s only here because of you,” Evgeni points out. “Because of your kind heart. You convinced me to ask him here, even though I know it hurt you in the process.”

She looks away but doesn’t deny it.

“You’re the one who convinced him to come here,” Evgeni continues. “Sidney Crosby, the most stubborn man I know.”